


Cannonball

by Tsuuriki



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Damien Rice songs, F/M, Introspection, Songfic, This does lean Garcy, but talks about canon Lyatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 20:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuuriki/pseuds/Tsuuriki
Summary: Happy Timeless Fanwork Exchange Day!I wrote this a couple weeks ago, and have been anxiously sitting on it waiting for this day! (And anxiously trying not to nitpick on it too much.)Summary: Lucy evaluates her feelings about Garcia and Wyatt, to the tune of Damien Rice. All song lyrics belong him, as does my love for his music.





	Cannonball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/gifts).



-~-~-~-~-~-

 

It was late, everyone else was asleep, and Lucy was left alone with her booze and her own musings. Laying on the couch, she decided that neither reading nor drinking herself unconscious were going to wind her down to sleep, so she put her headphones and opened up her Spotify account. She wasn’t in the mood for anything loud, just searching for something to soothe her racing mind. Folk rock wasn’t on her usual playlist, it had always been more appealing to Amy, but she had been listening more to what she knew Amy had liked, trying to keep that connection to her.

 

A song started with a beautifully haunting piano solo, the chords resonating within her heart before a man’s gentle harmony began.

 

_ Well I held you like a lover _

_ Happy hands and your elbow in the appropriate place _

 

She breathed in. She already knew this song was going to hit home. Her mind trailing back a couple weeks and over 70 years ago, to Hollywood and what was initially a magical night. Singing in front of the crowd, but singing to Wyatt. The look on his face when he realized her words were for him. Waking up the next morning with the hope that Wyatt would find the ability to move on from his then-dead wife and his own guilt. 

 

_ Do you come _

_ Together ever with him? _

_ And is he dark enough? _

_ Enough to see your light? _

 

She thought about Wyatt’s face when he confronted her about staying in Garcia’s room. The night she spent taking comfort in the presence of someone that just wanted to get to know her. Lucy felt her heart speed up at Wyatt’s words “I still care about you. I can’t make that disappear.” The simultaneous thrill and dread that sank into her heart that maybe she wasn’t distancing herself enough from him for him to commit more fully to his wife. 

 

_ Well I know I make you cry _

_ And I know sometimes you wanna die _

_ But do you really feel alive without me? _

_ If so, be free _

_ If not, leave him for me _

_ Before one of us has accidental babies _

_ For we are in love _

 

The chorus swelled again as the words sank in. It was too late. Wyatt left when she needed him the most. He brought Jessica to the bunker. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt horribly like he was rubbing his happiness in her face. He got what he wanted, and she was stuck alone. Her mother left her for dead. Amy is still gone. Jessica is pregnant, and she was definitely not going to play the mistress. It didn’t end well for Judith Campbell, and she knew, with Rittenhouse issuing an active order for her demise, it would end badly for her as well.

The song came to a close with the line “What about me?”, as she picked up her phone to find out who sang that song. The soft and sad lyrics sank into her chest, and she needed to hear more from him.

 

The next song that came up by the same artist started out with a pleasant acoustic guitar. Not as melancholy as the previous song, but not cheerful either. There was deep emotion in the voice that came through her headphones.

 

_ Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth _

_ Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt _

_ Still a little hard to say what's going on _

 

She had come to his door feeling exhausted, using the bottle as an excuse to continue their conversation. She remembered waking up in Garcia’s bed, mildly hungover, but remembering everything from the night before. He had sat near her as she opened up to him. She could say that she was attracted to him, being near him was as easy as breathing. He already knew enough about the woman that wrote the journal, but she wasn’t sure if she was the person that wrote it yet.

 

_ Still a little bit of your ghost, your witness _

_ Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed _

_ You step a little closer each day _

_ That I can't say what's going on _

 

Thinking back to earlier that day, riding in the car with him. He wanted to get to know her as a real person and not just the idea of her. He was ahead of her, the journal giving him the advantage, he may already know what their future holds. 

 

_ Stones taught me to fly _

_ Love taught me to cry _

_ So come on, courage, teach me to be shy _

_ 'Cause it's not hard to fall _

 

Maybe she could allow herself to get closer to Garcia, to allow herself to trust him and possibly even fall in love with him. Maybe she could become the person he thought she was, back near the wreckage of the Hindenburg when he had turned her whole world upside down. He had already put so much trust in her, it would be easy to let him in and reciprocate that trust.

 

_ And I don't wanna scare her _

_ It's not hard to fall _

_ And I don't wanna lose _

_ It's not hard to grow _

_ When you know that you just don't know _

 

She sat up, making up her mind. Leaving the vodka, she walked to Garcia’s room. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she knew she would find it in his eyes if she let herself open up to him.


End file.
